


Laying on the Soft Forrest Floor

by Wewheresobeautiful



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Complete, One Shot, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wewheresobeautiful/pseuds/Wewheresobeautiful
Summary: Maybe...if he just lay here....he could stop time. Just for a moment.
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Giaus and his herbs. Giaus and his never ending herbs. Both a blessing and a curse in his mind. A chance to escape the city, retreat into the forrest and mindlessly pluck at leaves till his satchel overflowed with green leaves and pungent perfumed petals. But also a labouring task. Another one to add to his long list, right behind buff Arthur's hunting boots and just before re-hem his majesties good brown trousers. 

Plucking away with nimble fingers, brown leaves crunching underneath his feet. Branches brushing his tunic and wind kissing his cheeks softly, gently. 

Peeling willow bark into long strips, feverfew blooms sandwiched between parchment. Lavender and peppermint filling his senses with every tear of leaf from steam. 

Maybe if he could just lie down. Yes, just for a moment. Next to the babbling brook, bubbles cascading over pebbles, reeds softly bumping one another back and forth. Back and forth. 

Maybe if he could just lay here, in the soft grass. Stare at the clear blue sky, listen to birdsong. Maybe...just for a moment...time would stop. The world would stop turning. Perhaps it would wait, wait for him to stand up, with his bushels of herbs and flowers in hand. Perhaps it would wait for him to rest his bones. 

Maybe if he just closed his eyes…


	2. Chapter 2

His legs felt numb. Tingly. His arms felt heavy and limp. And yet he felt warm, safe. His chest heaved. Ribs struggling to push upwards but not inwards. His throat was dry and tight. He clenched his fingers around his satchel and found it was not there. 

His eyes opened. 

A haze of green and brown. 

He lifted his hand. Attempted to. He looked down. Pinstriped vines curled around his wrist, thorns inches from digging in as red flowers searched for the sun. Thick brown bark slithering up his legs, taking root in the earth beneath him. Clenching. Tight. No escape. Heavy creepers crushing his chest. Pushing and squeezing, twisting and turning, leaves moving left and right. Invisible eyes searching for something, anything, that may approach. 

He looked at the sky. The still sky. Clouds frozen in place, birds captured mid flight as if they were encased in glass. 

His eyes widened. A vine slipped under his sleeve. Blazed a trail for his lips, silencing a gasp that attempted to befell them. 

The grass felt like peat. Soft, swampy, peat. He was sinking, slowly, hesitantly. Grass around his ears then his cheeks. Sky becoming smaller and smaller. Blue changing to a bitter black. Chest still crushed, lips still sealed. Fingernails digging into dirt, holding on to what he didn't know. 

Eyes widened. A silent gasp. Darkness.


End file.
